Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“We’re not eating pizza. We’re learning to make it.”

“Make it?” I laugh. “Why would I want to make it when I can jus

t call up and order it? Besides, we’re Italian! Pizza making is in our blood.”

“But not true New York–style pizza,” he argues. “And once we find out that you got in, we’ll do something special to celebrate.”

My heart jumps as I think about the program. This is the first time all day I’ve thought about it. I sneak a look at Pietro, impressed by how convincingly he was able to distract me from it.

—

We spend the next few hours learning the art of pizza making and eating our masterpieces for lunch—though I end up wearing more than actually ends up on my pizza. I’ve never laughed so much in my life. We leave the pizzeria and head back to my apartment. I’m tired but glad the day isn’t ending here.

“This was a pretty cool day. You know a lot of useless shit.” I chuckle. “I love how fun and laid-back you are. It’s like I’m seeing a different side to you.”

“Different how?” he asks, cocking his head.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “You’re much more formal back home. Around my father.”

He laughs. “Have you met your father? He’s as intimidating as hell. Besides, I want him to take me seriously, professionally speaking, and that’s all in the way I carry myself around him.”

“Why do you even want to be involved in all that?” I ask.

I might be ignorant about how legal my father’s business activities are, but I’m not stupid. Most of what he does would be seen as dubious in the eyes of the law, but that’s the way it’s always been. I don’t question it.

“Because believe it or not, your dad is one of the good guys. My father got mixed up in some pretty serious stuff that ultimately got my family killed. He never hid his involvement in crime from me. If anything, I was exposed to it from an early age, expected that I’d follow in his footsteps one day. Like it or not, this life is in my blood. It’s who I am.”

“That sounds like a cop-out to me,” I mutter. Immediately, I regret my words. Pietro stares at me, his expression shocked. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business—”

The phone ringing cuts me off. I jump, and for a brief moment I wonder who it is. Then I remember what I’ve been waiting all day for. My heart begins to pound as I pick up the phone. Closing my eyes, I press ANSWER and hold it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Lucia, Marcus here. I’m happy to inform you that you’re one of the dancers we’re interested in having continue the program. I trust you’re happy to continue?”

“Yes, definitely. One hundred percent.” I’m so happy I could burst. Random tears begin to well in my eyes and I swat them away.

“I love your enthusiasm.” He chuckles. “I will see you at six a.m. sharp, Tuesday morning.”

“You’re in?” Pietro asks impatiently as I place the phone in my pocket.

I nod, a wide smile forming on my lips. Holy shit, I can’t believe it. Part of me had accepted the fact that there was a big chance I was going home. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations.”

He throws his arms around me, his hands resting on the arch of my back. My knees weaken as he smiles at me, those dark, sexy eyes penetrating me. Silently, I’m begging for him to kiss me, but I know he won’t. If I had any guts I’d grab hold of his collar and pull him toward me. But I don’t.

Instead, I allow him to kiss me on the cheek and pull out of the embrace. I try to hide my disappointment as he asks me how we’re going to celebrate.

“We’re celebrating that I haven’t been kicked out of the program that might score me a job?” I laugh.

“Your dream job,” he corrects. “And why not? Haven’t you worked hard? Aren’t you glad to be in the top fifty percent of your group?”

“Sure, but it just seems silly.” I shrug. It’s how I feel, even if it is ridiculous. “How about we celebrate when there’s actually something worth celebrating?”

“How about you suck it up and learn to accept when you’ve accomplished something?” he fires back. I laugh. He gets so passionate over the smallest things.

“Fine,” I grumble. “You win. We’ll do something. You can take me to dinner somewhere, okay?”

“Good. I know just the place.” He grins.